221B or Stranger Than You Dreamt It
by HollyRose31523
Summary: Obviously, John is obsessed with the Phantom of the Opera and Sherlock is bored - by both, John's obsession and the Phantom. This is a collection of 221B drabbles, which assemble to a whole story.
1. Boring

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. Or the Phantom of the Opera. Pity!

* * *

**Boring**

Bored. Sherlock thought he had never been so bored before in his life – and it had nothing to do with the cold turkey he was on, but the film John was watching. Like a child awaiting Christmas he sat in front of the flat screen, stuck to the words the actors sang. Sang, yes, sang. It was some sort of music film, obviously.  
"Why are we watching this, John?" Sherlock asked.  
"Because it's a great performance."  
"It's an opera."  
"It's a musical," John improved. "*The* musical. Like in *The* Woman. Now shut up!"  
Sherlock frowned.  
"What's it called?"  
"The Phantom of the Opera," John answered. "It's the 25th anniversary performance."  
"Boring," Sherlock snorted.  
"Maybe for you."  
"It is."  
"Go to your room, then, and stop bothering me."  
"Why don't *you* go to *your* room and watch it there? Why do I have to suffer from your … obsession?"  
"I am not obsessed," John corrected. "I am fascinated."  
"Fascinated?" Sherlock repeated, amused. "The actors can hardly sing!"  
"What do you know about music, Sherlock?"  
"I play the violin," Sherlock retorted, offended.  
"Which you taught yourself."  
"So?"  
"So, you are not exactly an expert on music."Sherlock grunted. Wrapping his dressing gown around himself he lay back on the sofa and turned on his side, facing the wall.  
This was boring. Sooo boring.


	2. Bugger

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. Or the Phantom of the Opera. Pity!

* * *

**Bugger**

Unfortunately, turning his back to the flat screen didn't help matters at all. This way he could avoid watching the show, but facing the wall didn't keep him from hearing the music.  
"Can you turn this noise down a bit?" Sherlock demanded.  
"Again, Sherlock, it's music, not noise. Do your research."  
Sherlock gasped. How dared he? That was his line – his catchphrase, so to speak!  
"It bothers me."  
"Not my problem."  
Sherlock looked over his shoulder.  
"This is still my flat, you know."  
"I pay the rent, too," John retorted, unimpressed  
"But I live here longer!"  
"Half a day longer, Sherlock! A few hours don't count."  
"They do count!" Sherlock insisted. "If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be sitting here, watching stupid stuff on the telly."  
"No, I would probably be sitting in my own place and enjoy this musical alone and without interruption!"  
He glared at Sherlock.  
"Seriously, if I hear one more word from you, I am going to tape your mouth shut with duct tape."  
"Duct tape?"  
Sherlock chuckled.  
"Why would you have duct tape at hand? Do you carry it around to keep your dates from running away?"  
"You'd be surprised."  
"Surprise me then!"  
Five minutes later, Sherlock was lying on the sofa again, bound and gagged with duct tape, still listening to the noise. Bugger!


	3. Bones

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. Or the Phantom of the Opera. Pity!

* * *

**Bones**

"You know, this doesn't make you my date?" John clarified. "It's only supposed to shut you up."  
Sherlock tried to answer, but all he could produce were indistinct sounds.  
"Ah, music, sweet music …"  
John sighed.  
"And I don't mean the musical for a change."  
Again, Sherlock protested, but in vain.  
This was an outrage! Now he was not only bound – literally – to watch the stupid musical, he also couldn't comment on it and thereby ruin it for John. On the contrary – John was ruining his afternoon. This wonderful Easter Monday that was perfect for a case to work on. But the only case present was the mental case sitting in his chair, smirking at him.  
"Are you enjoying yourself so far?" John asked, teasingly, when the third commercial break started with the announcement that the CD from the leading artist of the musical was just out.  
Sherlock glared back at John.  
"Oh, I have a brilliant idea", John continued, folding his arms. "Why don't we get this CD?"  
He nodded at the flat screen.  
"So you can listen to this beautiful music all day long."  
Sherlock narrowed his eyes.  
"Do you know what?" John decided. "I am going to order it right now."  
With that he walked to his computer, while Sherlock thought of 221 ways to break John's bones.


	4. Bet

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. Or the Phantom of the Opera. Pity!

* * *

**Bet**

John chuckled, when he caught Sherlock's stare of fury.  
"Nah, I am not that cruel," he decided. "But I did enjoy the glimpse of hate in your eyes just now."  
And he would get 221 glares more if he didn't stop soon! If only he could get his hands free. Or his feet. But John must have had a lot of experience when it came to duct tape …  
"If I did release you now, do you promise that you will keep silent for the rest of the performance?" John asked.  
Sherlock pursed his lips. Or at least he tried to. There was no use in making faces. A gesture was in order.  
Reluctantly, Sherlock nodded. Once.  
"Promise?"  
Sherlock closed his eyes for a second. John was so getting this back one day!  
Again, Sherlock moved his head, indicating his agreement to the outrageous demand.  
"Alright!"  
John grinned.  
"Prepare yourself."  
Unfortunately there was no time to prepare oneself for the pain, when with a harsh jerk John ripped off the duct tape from Sherlock's mouth.  
"Damn you!" Sherlock cursed, loudly.  
"I can reattach this, quite easily …" John suggested. "I have loads of this stuff."  
"No," Sherlock refused, moving his arms, impatiently. "Cut my hands loose."  
"Ohhh …"  
John feigned pity.  
"Are they numb already?"  
Sherlock gritted his teeth.  
"You bet!"


	5. Blast

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. Or the Phantom of the Opera. Pity!

* * *

**Blast**

Rubbing his wrists to get the feeling in his hands back, Sherlock looked at John, angrily.  
"You needed to prove your point, didn't you?"  
"It was the only way to shut you up," John explained, turning back to the flat screen. "Oh, the commercial break is nearly over."  
He gave Sherlock a warning glance.  
"Now, one more disrespectful comment about the performance or the actors and you will find yourself back in duct tape, do you understand?"  
"Perfectly," Sherlock grunted. "As if you could pull that stunt again!"  
"Don't tempt me, Sherlock," John warned. "When it comes to this musical I won't be trifled with."  
Sherlock frowned.  
"Have you ever seen it live on stage?"  
"No, I didn't have the pleasure," John said, regretfully. "The tickets are ridiculously expensive. I do know the music, though."  
"You bought the CD," Sherlock deducted.  
"This musical is from the mid-80s, Sherlock, hence the 25th anniversary," John explained. "It was on tape back then, but, yes, I did buy it."  
"Do not remind me of tape!" Sherlock said, darkly.  
"Sorry," John apologized. "Bad memories?"  
"The worst," Sherlock answered. "You nearly tore off my skin."  
"Just keep your bloody opinion to yourself next time!"  
"Next time?" Sherlock repeated. "There will be a next time?"  
"I'm taping this", John said, matter-of-factly.  
Sherlock rolled his eyes.  
"Oh, blast!"


	6. But

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. Or the Phantom of the Opera. Pity!

* * *

**But**

"Shush!"  
John made a dismissive gesture.  
"It will start again any minute now."  
"Can't wait for that to happen," Sherlock said, sarcastically. "Didn't you notice that it was all a fake up to now?"  
"Sherlock!" John warned.  
"It's true!" Sherlock insisted. "The guy with the lantern earlier on the bridge …"  
"… who would be the Phantom," John intervened. "Thanks for paying attention!"  
"… who was dragging the girl over the bridge …"  
"Christine, yes," John elaborated. "So, what about them?"  
"Those were not the same persons as before."  
"How can you possibly know that?" John enquired. "We didn't even see the phantom before!"  
"But we saw him later, performing this Phantom song on stage together with the girl … Christine or whatever her name is," Sherlock explained. "And it was definitely another guy."  
"Are you sure?"  
"Left-handed, John, left-handed!"  
"Yes, I am left-handed, but how …"  
"Not you!" Sherlock shouted, pointing at the flat screen. "The Phantom! The Phantom is left-handed, didn't you notice?"  
"No …" John admitted.  
"And you didn't notice the tattoo on his left wrist either, I reckon."  
John pursed his lips.  
"So he has a tattoo, so what?"  
"Nothing," Sherlock said, evenly. "I am just saying you are not paying enough attention to the thing you claim to love so much."  
John frowned, confused.  
"But …"


	7. Because

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. Or the Phantom of the Opera. Pity!

* * *

**Because**

John hesitated.  
"Why is it important that the Phantom is left-handed?"  
"Because!" Sherlock replied. "The man on the bridge was certainly not left-handed! Every blind man could see that!"  
"Was it so obvious?" John asked. "Well, I guess I have to check the tape, once the show is over."  
"Oh, please," Sherlock exclaimed. "Will you for once take my word for it? And don't mention tape!"  
"Yeah, you're right," John agreed. "It isn't actually tape I am recording on, it's on memory stick."  
"So, you can delete it?" Sherlock asked, hopefully.  
"I can," John confirmed. "But I won't."  
Sherlock inclined his head.  
"Maybe *I* will."  
"If you value your life, you better don't!" John suggested.  
"Oh, come on!" Sherlock grunted, ruffling his hair. "This performance isn't that good! It's mediocre at best!"  
"Is it?" John said, mockingly. "And you can judge about this, because …?"  
He looked at Sherlock prompting.  
"Because I have eyes and ears and all four of them are not pleased!" Sherlock answered.  
"Then go into your room!" John demanded. "Because the commercial break is over and I would like to enjoy the rest of the show now without you interrupting! So please! Go!"  
Sherlock threw a laugh.  
"I wouldn't dream of it."  
"Then shut up at least!"  
"Why?"  
John clenched his hands into fists and growled.  
"Because!"


	8. Breaks

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. Or the Phantom of the Opera. Pity!

* * *

**Breaks**

"Because?" Sherlock repeated, teasingly.  
"Because you spoil it for me," John explained. "Now, please, Sherlock, just until the next commercial break, please, keep your deductions to yourself and your mouth shut! Can you do that for me? Please?"  
Sherlock rolled his eyes.  
"How long is this musical, anyway?"  
"2 hours, 38 minutes," John said, curtly, concentrating on the show that had just begun again. "Not including the commercial breaks."  
"Alright, let me rephrase my question ..."  
"Does it have to be now?" John interrupted, impatiently.  
"Just tell me when this whole thing is over!"  
"At 5 o'clock," John answered.  
"It started at 13:40," Sherlock mused. "If it ends at 17:00 it is 3 hours and 20 minutes."  
"Well done, Sherlock, you certainly know your math," John said, sarcastically.  
"But you said the running time was only 2 hours and 38 minutes."  
"So?"  
"So, it doesn't add up."  
John inhaled deeply.  
"Wait a second," Sherlock added, amazed. "Did I just say 'only'?"  
"Yeah, Sherlock, you did, but I would really appreciate it, if you could just be quiet now."  
"But it doesn't add up!"  
"Sherlock …"  
"It doesn't!" Sherlock insisted. "There is a time gap of 42 minutes!"  
John sighed.  
"Two words for you, Sherlock, and then you shut up, alright?"  
Sherlock nodded, reluctantly.  
"I mentioned them before," John explained. "Commercial breaks!"


	9. By

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. Or the Phantom of the Opera. Pity!

* * *

**By**

Unfortunately, the next commercial break was not until fifteen boring minutes later. Sherlock had tried to ignore the music and the singing and whatever was in between, yet he couldn't stop the melody playing in his head. It was annoyingly haunting – even when it was not playing.  
"Aren't you bored by this already?" Sherlock finally asked, when the fourth commercial break started. "It's always the same tune over and over again."  
"I know", John agreed. "That's what makes it so interesting."  
"Interesting?" Sherlock repeated, incredulously. "Well, I wouldn't call it 'interesting'. Actually, the word I would use for it …"  
"… you better keep to yourself," John suggested, pointing at Sherlock, accusingly. "I am warning you, Sherlock, I will not have you belittle something this splendid."  
"And now it is splendid!" Sherlock exclaimed. "Really, John, have you ever asked yourself, why you couldn't keep any of your girlfriends?"  
"Apparently, you have given the matter some thought."  
"I didn't have to, because it is quite obvious", Sherlock answered. "It must have been your taste in music. Or your lack of it …"  
"Actually," John replied, angrily. "Girls seem to love this musical."  
Sherlock snorted.  
"Can't imagine why!"  
"Well, if you had stopped moaning about it you might have deducted it already", John said. "It's the story, of course, they are intrigued by."


	10. Brag

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. Or the Phantom of the Opera. Pity!

* * *

**Brag**

"Story?"  
Sherlock raised a mocking eyebrow, pointing at the flat screen.  
"You mean there is an actual story to this thing?"  
"As I said before, if you had paid attention …"  
"… I would still hate it", Sherlock finished John's sentence. "Maybe even more than I already do."  
"Well, *I* don't," John established.  
He hadn't sounded angry and it was the indifference in his tone that bothered Sherlock immensely.  
"Alright, what's the story, then?" he demanded.  
"Do you only ask to keep complaining or do you really want to know?" John asked, suspiciously.  
"Little bit of both," Sherlock admitted.  
John sighed.  
"Well, the story is about a girl, who got singing lessons by her so-called Angel of Music, who turns out to be the Phantom of the Opera," he explained. "And on the night of her debut she meets her childhood sweetheart …"  
"Oh, dull!" Sherlock interrupted. "Next!"  
"Why do you ask me, if you don't want to hear me out?"  
John sounded annoyed again.  
"Because it is obvious what is going to happen!"  
"Really?"  
John huffed.  
"Why don't you tell me, how the story is going to turn out, then?"  
Sherlock was intrigued. Adding the clues from what he already knew and make a deduction – it was an offer too tempting too decline, plus, it was an opportunity to brag.


	11. Baffled

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. Or the Phantom of the Opera. Pity!

* * *

**Baffled**

"So this girl meets her childhood sweetheart," Sherlock mused. "But he is not any old childhood sweetheart – he is distinguished. A noble man. And he is still in love with her. But she has already fallen for the Phantom. Girls tend to fall for their teachers all the time. That's a fact."  
"How do you know?"  
"Common knowledge," Sherlock replied. "Besides, it's this old "My Fair Lady" motif all over again. A girl meets an older gentleman, who has knowledge and teaches her, and no matter how rude he is to her, she will definitely fall for him like a ton of bricks. It's psychology. What you hate in the beginning you will love in the end. It's as simple as that."  
"And what about her suitor?"  
"Oh, he's boring," Sherlock explained. "The Phantom is much more fascinating."  
"And defaced," John added, dryly. "Why do you think is he wearing a mask?"  
"Defaced?" Sherlock repeated. "Oh, that's even better. He is mystery and danger. Show me one girl, who is not drawn to that!"  
John smiled and there was something troubling about that grin.  
"What?" Sherlock demanded. "Am I wrong?"  
"You have never been more wrong in your life," John said, smoothly.  
Wrong? Did he miss something? Should he have paid more attention after all?  
And for once, Sherlock was baffled.


	12. Blu-ray

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. Or the Phantom of the Opera. Pity!

* * *

**Blu-ray**

"Sherlock?" John asked concerned when he entered the flat, where he found Sherlock huddled up in his chair.  
"Shhh!"  
"Sherlock, what are you doing?"  
"I'm watching the Phantom," Sherlock replied.  
"Again?"  
John blinked.  
"Sherlock, this is the third day in a row that you watch the Phantom."  
"Yeah, so?"  
"So, Lestrade called you twenty-one times already," John explained. "And since you don't answer your phone he is calling me now to ask if you are alright. Apparently, you are not."  
"Leave me alone, John, I'm busy."  
"Busy doing what?"  
"Busy watching the Phantom."  
"Sherlock, you hate the Phantom."  
"Hate is such a strong word."  
"Yes, but it fits," John established. "May I remind you that last week you practically destroyed the musical verbally?"  
"Water under the bridge, John, water under the bridge."  
"Are you telling me that you took a fancy to it?"  
"A fancy?" Sherlock repeated. "Oh, this is much more than a fancy!"  
"Clearly," John agreed. "Sherlock, you are more obsessed by this musical than I ever was! Look! The memory stick is already fuming! That's how often you have watched the recording."  
"Relax, John, I am not watching from your precious memory stick."  
John inclined his head.  
"Don't tell me you bought the Phantom on DVD!"  
"DVD?"  
Sherlock snorted.  
"No, John," he answered. "I've got it on Blu-ray!"


End file.
